


why don't you sit down on top of me

by badass_normal



Category: Lost
Genre: Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-07-05
Updated: 2010-07-05
Packaged: 2017-10-11 01:20:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,094
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/106726
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/badass_normal/pseuds/badass_normal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Charlie and Eko have sex. Ana Lucia watches. <i>Wildly</i> AU cyberpunk.</p>
            </blockquote>





	why don't you sit down on top of me

**Author's Note:**

  * For [toestastegood](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=toestastegood).



The night sky is clear, clearer than we've ever known it, certainly. Stars splatter like milk across the cobalt, gazing down at the blackened city lightyears below, and a stifling breeze that is humid more than it is warm drifts between the dark skyscrapers.

We are looking at one skyscraper in particular, off on the north end of the city. Specifically, into a certain one of the many sparkling windows. It is on the eighth floor, fourth from the left. And there's a gentle off-white glow, the glow of a giant computer screen, identical to every other window in the building, in the city.

On the screen, there are men, two. The taller man is dark-skinned and the smaller man is not and they stand in a trashed grey bedroom. The former has his hand in the latter's hair. It's an alarmingly tender gesture, coming from such an imposing man.

And there is a woman perched on a chair in front of the screen. She is alone, her shoulders slouched forward and her dark eyes glazed, barely focused. Her black hair is loose and she wears a badge over her uniform. Her fingers splayed on her thighs. Something about her is danger cloaked in apathy, rough edges and hardened heart, even if the apparent femininity of her body does its best to contradict it. Something about her is deadly, and she doesn't care how obvious it is.

That's important. She doesn't care.

\--

Ana Lucia sits at her cracked monitor, emotions artificially spiking as Charlie and Eko whisper to each other,

_(that they're stuck like this, their world on public display because that's what happens to the unfortunates, the lowlifes.)_

because she's been following them and Eko on her program for a while,

_(time doesn't matter anymore, not in forever.)_

and she knows exactly what fascinates her about them. It's that Catholic thing, or maybe they're some other denomination. She has an incurable kink for religion. It's one of the least wrong things about her.

And she knows exactly what fascinates her about them. It's that she's so firmly rooted in the facts, in logic, in the furthest thing from faith. She's drawn to it because, you know, magnets attract in addition to repelling, and religion has been a wingnut magnet since back when time mattered. She's a fucking wingnut. Of a different breed.

She plugs herself into the monitor. That's a lie. She's never unplugged. It's just easier to live Charlie and Eko. Rather, she pays attention, because suddenly Eko is ripping off Charlie's belt and throwing it away. She pushes some buttons and

_(her erogenous zones are activated by the machine, ready to respond to anything the men do to each other.)_

the heat swells down to her belly on command. Eko reaches into Charlie's stained denims, not bothering to tug them down, and instead of frustrating her it turns her on. She can feel careful computer-generated fingers probing between her legs.

Eko's fist begins moving on Charlie as his phantom index and middle finger penetrate her. A thumb brushes over her clit. Charlie's head falls forward into Eko's chest and he groans and she's wet, so wet and her nipples harden. His free hand grips Charlie's shoulder and her eyes fall to his crotch where she can see through his pants that he's just as hard as Charlie is.

He removes his hand and Charlie practically screams in frustration, and so does Ana Lucia, her arousal literally dripping down the inside of her thighs. Charlie presses forward and rubs against Eko like a little slut, and that's reason number two she has chosen them.

She watches Eko grind back and feels fabric on the tender skin of her thighs, feels the continued stroking of her clit being rubbed in tight circles. Her palm traces the side of her cheek before her fingers bury themselves in her hair, tugging erotically in their irresistible need to grip. Her knees fold, her legs spread to accommodate his hand.

Charlie is making delicious sounds now, and she bites her lip to avoid mimicking him, she doesn't want to wake Miles or the baby. He could come just like this, she knows, she's seen it before. He's as easy as she is. And as his soft moans escalate toward climax, she shoves her knuckles into her mouth to block the whimpers she can be guilty of.

Eko pulls away and takes Charlie down onto their mattress

_(the unfortunates, see, they can't afford anything even after they've sold themselves, that's the alleged appeal.)_

and turns him around, bends him over. His fingers slip into Charlie's belt-loops, pull down the jeans. He undoes his own pants and Ana Lucia swallows, as she always does, at the sight of his cock, standing straight and erect from his body. His huge hands clasp Charlie's hips and he whispers something inaudible before pressing in slowly and as gently as this kind of thing can be, and Ana Lucia feels it herself, feels him sliding far more easily into her.

For a moment Charlie bows his head, lips parted and Eko stills, runs a hand through Charlie's hair. Ana Lucia breathes in anticipation and shifts, adjusting to the size of him.

It begins with more of a rocking motion than any, close and tight movements and she sees their sheets bunching in Charlie's hands and arches her neck. She imagines she can hear the sounds of him moving within her. Imagines.

Eventually, Eko is pretty much just fucking him, and her, with steady, powerful thrusts that she can feel through her whole body. Fucking Charlie and nibbling at his throat and clawing at his hips. She feels his nails on her waist and finally cries out as the ghost hand returns to her swollen clit. Eko's hand reaches around front to Charlie's cock again, in unison. Her hips slam forward in an instinctive search for more, for closer, and the impending release builds in her middle.

Charlie comes and she comes, physical ecstasy shattering her to pieces, her legs trembling and her body arching fantastically. The orgasm consumes her and the machine keeps it going until nothing remains of real life.

Eko is orgasming when the haze finally lifts from her eyes. He growls a single time and pushes, and collapses on Charlie.

The computer doesn't do cuddling,

_(but it does empathy)_

so she feels the satisfaction of the post-coital snuggle without the reality of it.

Eko kisses Charlie's forehead. Charlie smiles.

She sits back in her chair and sighs in manufactured content.


End file.
